


Snow Chance

by ThePause



Series: All I Want For Christmas Is You [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Christmas tree earrings, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, Stranded, body heat for warmth, getting naked with the business partner, kissing so much kissing, one bed, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePause/pseuds/ThePause
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and their car gets stuck in a snowstorm. They have to pass the night at a sketchy motel, together, with only ONE bed.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: All I Want For Christmas Is You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549456
Comments: 63
Kudos: 269





	Snow Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @missgeevious for being an A+ beta and person! Any mistakes are me being a dummy.

David should have already been back at the motel, in his favorite sweatpants and sweatshirt, warm and cozy with his blankets pulled up to his chin, ready to ignore another Christmas in Schitt’s Creek. Instead, he was stuck in a snowstorm, in Patrick’s car with the broken heater, sitting in the passenger seat while Patrick drove so far under the speed limit they probably could have walked faster. David hadn’t even wanted to go on the trip to Elm Springs, told Patrick he could check out the new wine vendor by himself, that it was Christmas Eve for fuck’s sake, but Patrick had insisted.

“We’ll be up and back, David,” he’d said. “And aren’t you Jewish?” 

“I’m a delightful half-half situation and anyway, not the point. It’s a _holiday_.”

Patrick had looked up at him with his stern expression, the one he always got when David over-ordered things he personally loved so he could sample them thoroughly. “We both know if you don’t come with me, you’ll end up hating the wine I choose. Then it will turn into a whole thing.” 

Patrick’s favorite line these days was that David would turn something simple and easy into something dramatic, making it _a whole thing_ . It started on David’s birthday, when David had leaned in and kissed him. Patrick had taken him to dinner and given him the most thoughtful birthday gift plus tons of eye contact and flirting and cheese stick toasting. They’d been sitting in Patrick’s car in front of the motel and David had thought Patrick wanted him to lean in, wanted them to kiss. But the next morning, Patrick had freaked out, said they needed to put the store first, keep things professional, like David had pulled the kiss out of nowhere. Since then, everything they did together, every decision they made, usually became _a whole thing_.

David had been disappointed but did his best to keep his attraction at bay. Patrick didn’t make it easy, always brushing his hands across David’s arms when scooting past him to get to the back room, fingers grazing his when putting out new inventory, bending over in his tight jeans to pick up the dustpan every night when he swept the floor. All Patrick needed to do was say the word and David would be on him like Moira on a complimentary bowl of painkillers. Because he liked Patrick. So much. Too much, probably.

“Can’t we go any faster?” David said, leaning forward in his seat like he could pick up the pace by sheer will alone.

Patrick motioned out the windshield, the road barely visible through the thick, falling snow and sleet. “Sure, David, I’ll just…drive faster on these slick roads so we can crash into another car or slide into a ditch. Would that make you happy?”

David huffed his irritation for the millionth time since they’d left the winery and pulled out his phone to text Stevie.

David: I’m going to kill Patrick. He took his sweet time talking numbers with the winery people and now we’re trying to get home in this freak snowstorm and he’s driving so slow a sloth would beat us home. And his heater’s broken.

Stevie: Well, since you have ice in your veins, you should feel right at home. 

David: Very funny. Tell me again why I agreed to this little trip?

Stevie: Because Patrick is your business partner and you were honoring his business request because you care about the success of the store. And because you love him.

David: I do NOT love him stop saying I love him! 

Stevie: Sorry, I meant to say you’re sexually attracted to him and want to give him the D and also your heart forever. Because of love.

David: I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but it was ONE KISS like...months ago! Obviously it wasn’t a good kiss since he so easily dismissed it. Anyway, how could I love someone who is the total opposite of me and drives me completely insane??

Stevie: Exactly.

David: The POINT is that if this car doesn’t start moving faster I am going to die here, a frozen yet fashionable popsicle, next to a man who doesn’t want me for anything but my incredible eye for detail and ability to create a gorgeous aesthetic.

Stevie: If you get stranded, you’ll have to keep each other warm. With your bodies.

David: Okay. Goodbye. Thanks for none of your help. 

Stevie: Tell Patrick hi!

David looked up from his phone and Patrick’s hands were at ten and two on the steering wheel, his shoulders tense, his eyes firmly set on the sliver of road that was still visible. In the few minutes he’d been texting Stevie, the snow had gotten worse.

“Are you okay?” he asked, starting to worry it was worse than he thought.

“Shhh,” Patrick said, leaning so far forward his chest was nearly one with the steering wheel, “I need to concentrate.” 

David’s stomach clenched. He’d never seen Patrick so rattled. Patrick was the chill one, the one who had things under control, the one who handled the boring important things while David whirled around the store making it beautiful and inviting and interesting. Patrick was reliable, capable, strong in all the right ways. He always trusted Patrick to take care of things, take care of him. Seeing him so nervous made David’s heart race.

And as much as he wished their relationship had developed into something less spreadsheet-based, he was grateful for Patrick’s business acumen. Without him, he never would have gotten the store off the ground. Their constant bickering was friendly, at least on David’s part. He liked Patrick, probably more than he’d ever liked anyone. He needed him. He didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to him. 

David was about to say so, was about to vomit out his months-held secret feelings when the car suddenly started to slide, the back fishtailing and sending the front bumper curving into the shoulder. Patrick’s hand shot out to hold onto David’s chest as David’s arms flailed, grabbing the door and the gear shift in a panic.

“Patrick!”

“Hold on. Hold ON!”

“PATRICK!”

The car kept spinning and spinning until, whump, it landed firmly in a snowbank next to the road, throwing David and Patrick forward and then back, banging their heads against the headrests.

“Oh my God, are we okay? Are you okay?” David said, touching his own body, checking for injuries. 

“I’m fine, I think,” Patrick said, dazed.

They looked each other over, their breathing quick, eyes wide. Patrick wiped his hands down his face and growled in frustration, but he didn’t say anything. He put the car into reverse, turned to look back over his shoulder and pressed the gas. The wheels spun and the engine whirred, but the car didn’t budge. He tried again, but the wheels just spun out, throwing snow into the road behind them. Patrick looked over at David, a distressed look on his normally super-in-control face.

“I think we’re stuck, David.”

“Yeah, you think?” David shouted, his heart still racing. 

Patrick rubbed his sleeve across the windshield, fogged up from their labored breathing. He peered out, squinting his eyes.

“It looks like there’s a sign over there? For a motel, maybe? We could wait there while we call for a tow truck.”

David threw his hands in the air. “You want me to walk through this,” he gestured to the storm outside the car, “in these shoes?" 

David wasn’t dressed for the weather. He had on a warm sweater, sure, but his pants were short, exposing his ankles, and his fashion sneakers were built for looks, not winter sports.

Patrick sighed, defeated. “You can sit here and freeze if you want, but I’m going. I’d suggest you go with me.”

Patrick zipped up his coat and wound his scarf around his neck and face, pulled his wool hat down over his ears, tugged his gloves tighter on his hands. He gave David a look and pushed open his car door. A gust of winter wind swept into the car making David’s eyes water. He didn’t want to trudge through the snow in his very not-insulated sneakers, but he also didn’t want to be left alone in the freezing car. He hurried out of the passenger door and stomped through the blizzard to catch up with Patrick, his bare ankles screaming when they hit the freezing snow.

“Wait,” he called out.

//

Patrick couldn’t believe this was happening. The whole reason he’d planned the winery trip, had forced David into going with him, was to finally, _finally_ , tell David his true feelings. After their first kiss the night of David’s birthday, he’d panicked. It was all too much, too fast, too not-Patrick. He’d just gotten out of a relationship with Rachel, was trying to find himself in Schitt’s Creek, was starting a new business for God’s sake. He couldn’t just go kissing his brand-new business partner like some horny teenager who couldn’t separate sexual tension from real life. Plus, he was just starting to figure out his own sexuality, his own desires. He knew he was very (extremely) attracted to David, but didn’t want to figure that out, so to speak, on the person he worked with every day.

So, he’d told David they needed to keep things professional, completely hoping David would refuse, would drag him into the back room and have his way with him.

Unfortunately for Patrick, David had honored his request. And every day since had been a slow, torturous slide full of accidental touches that weren’t accidental, too-long looks across the store when, far too often, David caught him staring. Still, David hadn’t made a move. Patrick knew he had to be the one to do it, but how? How was he supposed to approach the subject after rejecting the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life? How was he supposed to say, I was an idiot and I’m sorry and I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my life? Just like that, he’d thought. He’d say it just like that.

Because holy hell did he want David Rose.

But then David had been all persnickety about the winery and complainy about traveling on a holiday and whiny about how long everything was taking. Normally Patrick loved David’s flair for the dramatic but today he’d just needed some peace, a way in, one second of David shutting-up long enough for Patrick to say, I was wrong. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.

And then the storm, the fucking storm. He’d been so nervous about keeping the car on the road, doing his best to keep them safe, and still he’d spun out, literally and figuratively it seemed. Now they were trudging uphill through calf-deep snow, David’s arm looped tightly into his, David bellowing about how his feet were already blocks of ice. Patrick could no longer see any path to the romantic moment he’d hoped for and the motel looked like it was at least half-a-mile away.

They kept walking as the storm raged, blowing snow into their eyes and nearly knocking them over with each blast of wind, David wearing a coat but not a scarf, hat or gloves. Patrick unwound his scarf and gave it to David, wrapping it around his neck for him, loving when David snuggled up next to him to brace against the wind. By the time they made it to the shabby motel, both of their pants were wet up to their thighs and their shoes and socks were soaked. He and David stomped as much snow off of their shoes and pants as they could before stepping into the small lobby. It was much smaller than the lobby at the Rosebud, just a desk with a tiny, older woman propped up behind it watching _White Christmas_ on a small TV on the counter with rabbit ears coming out of the top. Her eyes widened when she saw them.

“Heaven and earth, did you two walk here?”

“Hi,” Patrick said, pulling his hat from his head. “Our car slid into a snowbank and we’re stuck. Mind if we wait here for a tow?”

She sagged down onto the desk, her head propped onto her hands. “You won’t get a truck out tonight, darlin’. Storm’s too bad.”

“But we have to get back,” David screeched. “It’s Christmas Eve!” He glared at Patrick. “I don’t have my skin care? Or clothes? We can’t stay here. No.”

The woman, Eloise her nametag read, smacked her lips together. “Freddy drives the only tow truck around here and I know he’s in for the night. Two other couples already showed up here, same as you. It’ll have to wait ‘til daylight, I’m afraid.”

David smacked Patrick on the arm, motioning for him to do something. And he wanted to do something, he did. He wanted to swoop in and take care of things, make this right for David, make him comfortable and safe. But he was powerless. He hated being powerless.

He pulled off his gloves, defeated. “I guess we’ll take two rooms, then?” 

Eloise chuckled, in on her own joke. “We’re full up. Just rented my last room a half hour ago.”

David’s red, chapped hands went to his hips. “What are we supposed to do, stand here all night?”

Eloise fluffed her cloud-like white hair, stroked her wrinkled neck and took them in, giving them both a head-to-toe once over, a curious smile percolating on her overdrawn lips. “I could put you up in the owner’s quarters.”

David blanched. “I am not sleeping with a stranger.”

Eloise grinned and shook her head, her long earlobes wobbling from the weight of her Christmas tree clip-on earrings. “No one’s using it. I could put on some fresh sheets?”

David gaped at Patrick, mouth open in disbelief. Patrick wanted to say something to soothe him, but there was no other option other than standing in the lobby the entire night, not even a chair to sit in.

“We don’t really have a choice here, David. We’ll just have to make do.” Patrick looked at Eloise, his shoulders hunching inward. “We’ll take it, thank you.”

They waited in the stuffy lobby while Eloise ducked into a doorway behind the counter to get the room ready.

“We can’t stay here,” David shouted, walking in a tiny circle, his head thrown back, eyes closed.

Patrick leaned against the counter, his face in his hands. “What would you like for me to do here, David? There’s no tow truck, the car’s stuck, it’s dark, the storm’s too bad for someone to come and get us. Do you have a better plan?” He looked at David, fire in his eyes.

He didn’t mean to get snippy, but he was tired. Frustrated. The entire day hadn’t gone anything like he’d planned. By now, they were supposed to be kissing again in Patrick’s car, this time for real. They were supposed to be starting something good, something so good. Something Patrick had been waiting for, wanting, needing. Instead they were arguing in cold, wet clothes, stuck in some sketchy motel in some backwater town, slowly losing the feeling in their lower extremities.

When Eloise hobbled back out, she motioned for them to follow her to the small apartment behind the desk, although apartment was being generous. It reminded Patrick of the Rosebud Motel, only tinier and dingier. The walls were covered in a dark, wood-like paneling with one dim lamp in the corner. There was a tiny kitchenette with a two-burner stove, a small sink barely big enough to hold more than one cereal bowl and one of those dorm fridges good for a six-pack and little else. Worse was the bed, as in, one bed. One double bed pushed into a corner with a small bench in front of it. No couch. No chair. No recliner. Nothing else relatively sleep-able than the sad, saggy double bed. Was he supposed to get into that thing? With David? His business partner he had a massive thing for? He peeked into the bathroom, hoping maybe there was a tub big enough to sleep in and nope. Only a stand-up shower that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the early 2000s.

David took in the bed and gawked at Patrick, his cheeks pink, probably from the cold.

“I put an extra blanket on the bed,” Eloise said. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be working the desk all night. Oh, and, Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you, Merry Christmas to you,” Patrick said. She waved as he closed the door behind her.

“Look at this place,” David said, waving his hands around in disgust. “We cannot stay here.”

“David, can you please just not-” 

“Make it a whole thing, I know.”

Patrick sighed and sat down on the bench in front of the bed and started unlacing his boots.

“I don’t know about you, but my jeans are soaked and I’m freezing. I’d like to take a hot shower but,” he looked up at David, who had an indiscernible expression on his face, “you can go first? If you want?” 

David’s tense stance softened. “No, uh, no, you can go first.”

He didn’t know why David was offering to let him go first. He knew David was freezing, could see him shivering in his too short pants, his hands still red from the cold. But David, he knew, wasn’t in the mood to argue. Neither was he. So, he pulled off his boots and socks and padded into the bathroom.

//

David heard the shower turn on, the pipes creaking and knocking against the wall next to the bed. He sat down and took off his coat, peeled off his soaked shoes and socks. He’d wanted to take the first shower, his feet were practically blue from the cold, but he wanted to text Stevie even more. He pulled his legs up onto the bench and rubbed his feet with his hands. When the feeling had sufficiently returned, he texted Stevie again.

David: The plot has thickened! Patrick slid into a snowbank and now his car is stuck in some snowbank in the middle of NOWHERE. We had to walk to a seedy motel (way worse than yours) and are stating in the owner’s apartment because the motel is sold out. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the owner is a serial killer and there’s a body hidden under the sagging mattress!. S.O. FUCKING. S.

Stevie: Sagging mattress as in one mattress? Holy fuck, are you going to SLEEP with PATRICK??

David: If you could see the situation we’re in, you wouldn’t be so suggestive.

Stevie: This is your moment, David! You’ve finally got Patrick right where you want him!

David: Where I want him is not in some wood-paneled nightmare that smells like Pine-Sol and regret. 

Stevie: But you do want him. And he wants you!

David: Hardly. He’s mad at me for griping all day about, well, everything.

Stevie: Foreplay.

David: It’s not foreplay! We’re in a frozen hellscape with no way out!

Stevie: Stop texting me and make your MOVE. Patrick is WAITING.

David: The only thing he’s waiting for is to get as far away from me as-

David stopped texting because the bathroom door was open, steam rolling out. He raised his head just in time to see Patrick in the doorway, still wet from the shower, naked but for a towel he was gripping closed at his hip. In his wildest fantasies, and there had been many, he’d never imagined _this_. Patrick looked like a dream sequence, like the embodiment of a record scratch, like hot fucking sex. David’s mouth fell open and he made no attempt to close it. Foreplay indeed.

Patrick crossed one arm over his chest. “I, uh, my clothes are wet and cold and, I, well…”

His hair had gotten a bit longer recently and was curling in small wet ringlets around the tips of his ears. A whine nearly escaped David’s throat.

“It’s fine,” David said, quickly, shifting his eyes to the floor. “Like you said, we need to make do for tonight. And we’re both adults here, right?”

“Right,” Patrick said, his stance still tense, his hand still gripped so tightly on the towel his knuckles were turning white.

They shuffled around each other so David could get into the bathroom, David moving carefully so he didn’t touch any of Patrick’s exposed skin. So…much…exposed…skin. Skin he wanted to touch and lick and nuzzle and holy fuck what the _hell_ was he going to do? David shut the bathroom door and took a deep breath, Stevie’s texts screaming through his brain.

David peeled off his frozen clothes and stepped into the steaming shower, glad to finally be warm again. As he stood under the hot spray, his thoughts kept drifting back to Patrick’s body in that sad excuse for a towel. It was thin enough that David now had a very informed idea about what Patrick was working with. Or maybe it was that his suspicions had been confirmed. Turned out, Patrick’s proclivity for tight jeans told a fairly accurate story. David blew out a breath and reached down to give his dick few light strokes. Patrick in that towel, God, what was he supposed to do with that? He pulled his hand away and banged a fist on the crumbling tile wall. He couldn’t do anything with it. Patrick wasn’t interested. He’d made that very clear.

When he turned the water off, David realized why Patrick had come out of the bathroom in just a towel. Because his clothes were soaked, there wasn’t any other way to exit the bathroom unless he did it stark naked, which, was an idea. Maybe if he went out there naked, Patrick would have to deal with it, would change his mind about being professional, would give in to the tension David sometimes suspected but couldn’t confirm was always buzzing right beneath Patrick’s skin. He wrapped the thin towel around his hips and fussed with his hair, irritated he didn’t have any products with him, no skin care, no clothes, nothing but sexual frustration and an overwhelming need to get his lips around his business partner’s fat cock. 

When he opened the door, ready to make his entrance, Patrick was already tucked in, laying on his side, facing the wall, the threadbare bedspread and extra blanket pulled up to his chin.

“Are you asleep?” David asked in a whisper.

“If I was, I wouldn’t be now.”

He stood there for a moment, waiting for Patrick to turn around and look at him. It was only fair. He’d seen Patrick in his towel, Patrick should see him in his, see what he’s working with. But Patrick stayed silent, unmoving, facing the wall, the blankets tight around his body creating a cotton barrier between him and David’s inevitable spot in the bed. David blew out a breath and pulled off his towel. He made an attempt to slide in next to Patrick with as little movement as possible, but due to the size of the bed and the dip in the mattress, jerked quickly to the side so he wouldn’t roll down into the middle, which only caused him to roll faster into the middle. The struggle to stay upright made David yank on the blankets, pulling Patrick’s blanket barrier free and David’s naked ass immediately backed into Patrick’s naked ass, their skin sizzling where it touched, like a wet pan hitting a hot stove.

“DAVID!”

Patrick went flailing into the wall and David nearly fell out of the bed onto the floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, my God. I’m just…trying to get into the bed.” He waited a beat to level out his breathing. “It’s this fucking mattress. It’s shaped like a Japanese soup spoon.” 

//

He couldn’t take it, could not TAKE it. He was naked. David was naked. They were naked in the goddamn motel bed together. David’s nakedness had _touched_ his nakedness. And all Patrick wanted to do was suggest they touch their nakedness together again. A lot. His grand plan had been for a repeat kiss, not full-on naked in a bed together. How was he supposed to handle this? He’d never kissed a guy before David. If he confessed his feelings here, now, would David want to have sex with him? Was he ready for that? Was he _informed_ enough for that? His mind immediately started cataloguing every gay porn he’d ever seen into two columns, mentally checking _yes, I would be into that_ and _no, I would not be into that._

The bed shifted and he could feel David trying to get comfortable as far onto the mattress edge as he could. The entire predicament was so beyond anything he could remotely handle. So much so that Patrick started to laugh. He couldn’t help it. The situation was too ridiculous for words.

“Are you okay?” David said, somewhere between a concerned whisper and an annoyed accusation.

But Patrick couldn’t stop laughing.

“Oh, this is funny to you, is it?”

Patrick wiggled around to face David, keeping the blankets firmly pulled up to just below his chin. “Yes, David, it’s funny. We’re trapped here together, both of us ass-naked in this ridiculous bed, both trying so hard to be professional when this is anything but professional.”

David smiled one of Patrick’s favorite smiles, a sort of sloping half-smile that was smirky and flirty and so, so cute. “I mean, okay. It’s sort of funny, I guess.”

Fuck, Patrick wanted to kiss him, wanted to devour his lips, taste his tongue, wanted to kiss the mole on his chin, wanted to burrow into his neck, wanted to lick the hollow of his throat.

“What?” David said, half-irritated.

“What?”

“You were staring at me.”

“I…no. I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.” David’s eyes were wide, questioning, accusing.

Patrick flipped back over to face the wall, humiliated. “Go to sleep, David.” 

// 

He’d definitely been staring, David knew it. Patrick had been staring at his lips, at his throat. David shouldn’t have said anything, should have just rolled into Patrick and taken what he suspected Patrick wanted. (But did he?) Instead he’d screwed it up by opening his stupid mouth. Why was he always doing that? Now Patrick was far away, all the way on the other side of the mattress divide, ignoring him. _Sleeping_.

David wasn’t going to be able to sleep. He was too keyed up, too wired, too full-on horny for Patrick Brewer. He shifted around so his back was to Patrick’s back (naked ass to naked ass) and pulled the blankets tighter around him.

//

It was the shivering that woke him up, his and Patrick’s both.

“What the fuck,” he said right as Patrick’s muffled “David?” squeaked out next to him.

“Why the fuck is it so cold in here?” David said, peeking out of the blanket and looking around the room.

“I think,” Patrick shifted around to face David, “I think the power went out.” He sat up the tiniest bit and called out towards the door leading to the front desk. “Eloise?”

They waited, listening. The motel was silent, no whir of a heater, no buzzing of the fluorescent vacancy sign outside the window, no low chatter from the TV on the desk.

“Eloise?” Patrick said it louder, a little more desperate.

“We’ll freeze to death,” David said. “We’re going to freeze to death in this hell hole this is NOT the way I wanted to go out.”

“David,” Patrick said.

David looked over at him, both of their faces mostly covered by the blankets that were doing little to keep them warm.

“We need to keep warm." 

David wiggled his head, the bed shaking with his movement. “What do you think I’ve been saying?”

“No, I mean,” Patrick swallowed, struggled, paused, “we’re going to have to…use our body heat. To keep each other. Warm.”

Realization dawned. David knew what Patrick was saying. Hell, his half-frozen dick was already half-hard from what Patrick was saying. But he wanted him to say it. “Huh?”

“I’m saying we need to…scoot together…and use our body heat to stay warm.”

David couldn’t help the devilish smile that spread across his face. “That doesn’t sound very professional, Mr. Business Partner.”

Patrick blew a hard breath out through his nose. “Just, get over here.”

They both shuffled, their bodies rolling together into the sagging middle. David nearly yelped as his body made contact with Patrick’s. They were both cold, their skin chilly and clammy, but he could feel everything – the hard planes of Patrick’s chest, his strong thighs, his cock. Patrick gasped, a tiny squeak escaping his throat and they moved immediately apart, eyes wide.

“Okay, so not, uh, maybe, uh, spooning?” Patrick said, his voice small and a little bit scared.

“Okay, yeah.” David would do whatever Patrick asked, as long as he could feel Patrick’s body against his again.

Patrick rolled around and scooted back into David’s body. David put his arm around Patrick’s chest, pulling him flush against him and David’s cock immediately nestled into Patrick’s ass.

“Ahh,” Patrick hollered, making them both fly apart.

“So, not spooning then,” David said, flushed and a bit trembly. It had felt so good, having Patrick against him like that, so deliciously good. 

“Okay so, back to back then?”

They shuffled around, pressing their backs together, blankets pulled tightly around them, the only sound in the room their synchronized breathing. Several wordless minutes later, they were still shivering. Back to back wasn’t working.

“Okay, David,” Patrick said in a serious tone. “We’re going to need to face each other to get warm. Let’s just…get as close as we can without, um...you know.”

They both turned, wiggling together under the blankets, doing their best to stay close enough to get warm but far enough away so their bodies weren’t touching. They ended up in a misshapen oval, their foreheads touching, chests touching, arms entangled, groins decidedly _not_ touching, legs slotted together, toes rubbing toes. Patrick pulled the blankets over their heads so their warm breath would be trapped inside.

“This is for survival,” he said. “We’re doing this to keep warm.”

“Don’t worry,” David said, barely keeping it together, his thoughts zeroed in on Patrick’s lips, Patrick’s hands, Patrick’s dick, “I’m well aware you’d never do this given the choice.”

He couldn’t see Patrick’s face in the darkness, but he felt his hesitation.

“David, is that what you think?”

//

David’s body next to his, even given the circumstances, was a revelation. He’d never felt another man’s dick before, never touched one but his own, never touched any part of a naked man like this. Even though they were trying to stay apart, every part of Patrick was touching every part of David. They’d tried to keep their dicks apart, but the dip in the bed just pushed them together. Patrick wanted to shout, wanted to explore, wanted to take, revel, soak it all in.

“This is for survival,” he said, more for himself than for David.

But then David’s words had hit him like a baseball bat to the head. _I’m well aware you’d never do this given the choice._ He sounded… _hurt_? Disappointed? In all the moments they’d spent together since that first kiss, Patrick hadn’t considered…that. David was experienced, sure of himself, gorgeous in an other-worldly way. How could he ever think Patrick wouldn’t want him?

“David, is that what you think?”

Their breath mingled together under the blanket, their bodies pressing, pressing, pressing, the temperature rising.

“Yes.”

And there it was, his moment, his opportunity. He was fully wrapped up in David’s naked body. All he needed to do was find the will to say _I like you._

“David, I…”

“I like you,” David blurted.

Patrick’s brain short-circuited. “What?”

“I know this is a terrible moment for this and it might ruin our working relationship but it’s dark and I’m cold and tired and my dick has a mind of its own and will probably tell on me anyway. I like you. I’ve liked you since the beginning, since you came in my store and bossed me around talking about how you were gonna _get the money_ like some kind of sexy mob boss. When I kissed you that night in your car, I did it because I wanted to, because I wanted you and I thought you wanted me, because-”

David didn’t get to finish, because Patrick was kissing him.

//

Patrick found David’s lips in the dark, kissed him, put his hand on David’s neck and pulled him in. David’s words were impossible and he wasn’t even sure he heard all of them, because now he was kissing David, _kissing_ him. David’s lips were soft and he was moaning and Patrick thought he was going to die. He’d been imagining this moment for months and it was better than his best idea.

“Patrick,” David said, barely pulling away, their lips still touching.

Patrick surged forward, licking into his mouth, their bodies pulling tightly together. They both gasped at the same time, their cocks twitching against each other, sobering the moment. 

“Do you,” David said, his hand somehow on Patrick’s thigh, pulling him closer, “what do you…how...”

“Don’t stop kissing me,” Patrick said, and David obliged.

They forgot about the power being out, forgot about the storm, forgot about Eloise. They kissed and kissed and Patrick discovered David liked his bottom lip to be bitten and then licked, so he did it over and over, making David writhe and moan. Patrick discovered he’d been right about the mole on David’s chin, that is was the perfect size and shape to be kissed and licked and kissed again. He found out he loved pushing his hands into David’s hair, loved David’s hands on his ass, pulling them together, loved rubbing his calf up David’s furry thigh, God, David’s body hair felt incredible. 

David ended up half on top of Patrick, their breath hot in each other’s mouths, David’s hand moving around Patrick’s hip toward his cock.

“Wait,” Patrick said, making no move to push David away.

David pulled back, far enough that they weren’t kissing but close enough that they could with minimal effort. Patrick’s body was on fire. He could feel David _everywhere_ and fuck it was so good, so right, so _fucking right._ But he couldn’t lose his head. Wouldn’t.

“I’m, uh, I need…”

“Tell me,” David said. “I’ll do anything.”

Patrick took a deep breath. “I’ve never, uh, been in this situation.”

David smiled against his cheek. “I know.”

“And just to be clear, I want to be in this situation. With you. But I don’t think I want my first sexual experience with a man, with you, to be in a damp motel bed in a room that feels like the inside of a deep freeze and where someone’s likely been murdered.”

“Oh, someone’s been murdered in here for sure,” David said, laughing into Patrick’s neck.

“Knock, knock,” Eloise said, barging in, “just bringing in an extra, oh, well.” David and Patrick stayed pretzled together under the blankets, holding onto each other, stock still. “I thought you might need more blankets since the power’s out but I see you two found a more bitchin’ way to keep warm. Carry on.”

She closed the door behind her and David giggled, his chest hair rubbing against Patrick’s forearm. “Did she just say _bitchin_ ’?”

“I sure did, darlin’,” Eloise called out from the other side of the wall.

Patrick gasped, whispered into David’s ear, “She can hear us!”

It was enough to break the tension of should we/shouldn’t we, enough to sober them to the moment, the surroundings, the gravity of what they were doing.

“I want this David,” Patrick said, his fingers combing through David’s chest hair, “I just want it in a better way, when I can see you, and feel my toes.”

“I can’t disagree,” David said, “but can I keep kissing you?”

Patrick didn’t answer, just pulled them together into another fiery kiss.

// 

The next morning they pulled on their still damp clothes and trudged out to Patrick’s car to meet Freddy and his tow truck. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, legs tangled together, smiles on their faces. It wasn’t until they were on the road again, heading back home to Schitt’s Creek, that either one of them said anything.

“So,” David said, looking at Patrick with a huge smile on his face, all teeth and bright eyes, “are we ready to do this?”

Patrick reached across the middle console and laid his hand on David’s thigh, palm up. David took it, laced their fingers together, held on tight.


End file.
